The dark had just invaded the sky, surprising it, without previous warning. The sun had disappear, leaving only the weak light from the lamps illuminate the streets. Shadows crawled up the walls, following anyone who catches them, conspiring behind their backs. The path was empty and made curves and bumps along the route. Such route, so important now that, maybe the most glorious men, had just passed by.

But there was one house in Paris, which stood out.

Inside it, you'll find so many stories; some bizarre, sad, comedy, heroic, sex… But the most beautiful story is still rolling. The main story… The Musketeers Story.

There's no place like home

D'Artagnan looked through the window, lining against the cold wall, thinking the good moments he spent back at home. Athos noticed the boy's face – "What's wrong, D'Artagnan?" – The musketeer asked looking up – "Nothing" – D'Artagnan didn't take his eyes of the window's reflection. The older musketeers were all sitting around the brown table, shared a long look before Porthos opened his mouth – "C'mon lad, I know what's wrong!" – The boy glared at him with a suspicious look – "Come closer" – He turned to watch Athos face, who just shook his head. "I'm not gonna bite you, lad!" – Porthos waved a hand.

D'Artagnan swag slowly closer to the big musketeer, who had a big smile showing on his face. "So?" – The boy asked shyly. Porthos grabbed his arm and pushed him, whispering in his ear. D'Artagnan's eyes grew hide and face turned completely red with embarrassment as the older musketeer kept murmuring something. "Porthos, no" – The younger musketeer snapped glaring at him. Aramis raised an eyebrow and peeked through his book, surprised with his young friend almost yell. "What did you told him, Porthos?" – Athos crossed his arms around his chest. – "Nothing to cause a reaction like that. I was just saying that is completely natural and understanding that he, has a young man, need to satisfy certain needs… And that we all have been through this" – D'Artagnan buried his face on his hands shaking them.

"Porthos, what were you thinking, for God sack we are in a kitchen!" – Aramis told him disgusted.

Porthos shrugged and let out a big laugh.

"No, God. No! It's nothing to do with it. It's just, what I feel a little… homesick, that's all." – The boy tried to calm his beating heart.

"Now that I think of it, have you talked with someone?" – Aramis watched the hesitating boy. "Hm, yes. Constance…." – D'Artagnan knew how ridicules his answered sounded.

"Now that's your problem." – Athos stood up, walking towards his young friend landing one arm on his thin shoulders. – "What do you mean?" – D'Artagnan looked up to the older musketeer. "You need to find yourself some friends, boy" "But I already have you as friends… and Constance too" "Some of your own age. Who you can play with and practice." – Athos told him with a smirk, seeing the look of bored on the young man's face.

D'Artagnan stared at his feet – "They don't tend to really like me at all."

Aramis looked fast at Porthos, anticipating any mocking words that could come out of his already filthy mouth.

"They are just jealous of you. Tell me boy, don't you get tired of being inside with us all the time? Especially with Porthos always messing with you?" – Athos lined over to mumble the last sentence so the big musketeer couldn't hear. – "Maybe, sometimes…" – D'Artagnan said shyly. "So, what are you waiting for? Tomorrow you'll get out of this door and find some nice group and make a friendship. And if they don't like you, you can always stick your sword up their asses" – The boy couldn't help but smile, imagining such bizarre idea. – "Alright, alright" – He finally gave up the fight.

"Although I love your enthusiasm, I'm afraid tomorrow won't do. If I recall, the Portuguese musketeers arrive tomorrow to the palace and the king wants us there. There will be a big dinner to welcome them." – Aramis said, laying down his book and balanced on his favorite chair.

Porthos rolled his eyes and shrugged – "Portuguese… jokes is what they are!" – D'Artagnan raised his eyebrows to his friends indignation – "What you don't like them?" – The younger musketeer asked. Athos and Aramis shared a looked and smiled to themselves. Aramis pressed his lips together holding back a hysterical laugh. "He had a fairly bad experience with a Portuguese man" – Athos held his breath back and bite his tongue hard, trying not to tell the hilarious story behind Porthos hate. "So Porthos…" – Aramis started but stopped when Porthos stoop up – "I don't want to talk about it!" – He walked out the room with heavy footsteps.

The two musketeers break and laughed as hard as they could.


Hope you had enjoyed! Review please. Forgive me any spelling mistakes.

Love, NomNomOn